There's No Better Feeling Than Being Standard

I don't know about you, but I just love standardized testing. These tests put me the best of situations. I enter classes that only teach material that will be on the test. I have to pay a standard fee that will essentially be wasted if I don't receive an excellent score. But I don't mind, that money will go towards College Board so they can make more and more tests. My favorites are the advanced placement tests. I pay upwards of $50 to receive one of five scores, three of which represent mediocrity or inadequacy, so I like my chances.
In the spirit of standardized testing, I created an exam of my own in the form of my favorite section of the SATs, critical reading. What better way to determine a person's eligibility for college than an subjective, open-ended interpretation of some stupid passage that some 50-year-old wrote in his or her LiveJournal. Here we go:

Author Greg Mantell wrote this classic passage on his affection for the Milwaukee Brewers and his severe hatred of the New York Yankees, both teams currently playing in Major League Baseball.

1. What is the author's #1 reason for loving the Milwaukee Brewers?
A) Their Logo
B) Why Not?
C) Timeless Tradition
D) A Great Roster

Since the logo is the first item shown in the passage, the correct answer is (A). Although he specifically addresses (B), (C), and (D) in his piece, those answers would simply make too much sense.

2. Which player is the primary focus of the second paragraph?
A) Geoff Jenkins
B) Brady Clark
C) Carlos Lee
D) Russell Branyan

Since the author's favorite player on the Brewers' roster is Russell Branyan, the correct answer is (D). Of course this would require some prior knowledge of Branyan being Mr. Mantell's favorite player, a luxury that not everyone taking the test has. Oh well, I suggest taking the paying the fees and taking the test a few more times until you get it right.

3. What role do the New York Yankees play when compared to the Milwaukee Brewers?
A) A Foil
B) A Bad Team
C) A Crappy Team
D) An Evil Team

Since (B), (C), and (D) are virtually the same answer, and (A) makes the most sense, the correct answer is (C). Hey, if you struggle with interpreting passages the same way the test creators do, then buy every SAT aid book that College Board has to offer. Then pay the standard fee and take the test a few more times.

If you answered every question correctly, congratulations, you are standard. You do not have the creative capacity to accomplish anything other than a high score on these tests. Your mind does not work in any other imaginative form and you have a bright future of replacing robots on assembly lines. If you answered every question incorrectly, then you are inept. Thank you for taking this exam, and remember to place all of your money in the disposal bin labeled "To CollegeBoard.com". It would be just as helpful as actually taking the SATs.

Putting the "Dent" in "Independent" Music

I can no longer escape it. It has influtrated our most sacred institutions. The sidewalk, the subway, Panera Bread, even the radio is not immune to the headache-causing, vomit-inducing, mentally challenged offspring of music that is "independent music". I put its official title in quotation marks because it is not independent and barely qualifies as music. Since when did throwing around the label independent make everything so cool? "Oh, I'm independent. I'm my own man, woman, or crybaby. I'm not confined by any foreign influence when it comes to style or music. My music is free to be as boring and shitty as I want". The best things in life are far from independent, namely the Milwaukee Brewers. They achieve mediocrity through teamwork and a dependence on one another. They are a true team in every sense of the word, unlike the New York Yankees, who are a collection of money-driven dickheads. Even though they have a better record than my beloved team, I still consider the Yankees to be independent, because they blow.
I keep forgetting what makes this music so independent. Oh yeah, not a damn thing. Odd how every creator of this supposed independent music enjoys mutilating my eardrums with disgustingly repetative chord progressions on an old acoustic guitar that sounds as if it can't take much more of a beating. But if the guitar doesn't put you to sleep, the lyrics will. For some strange reason, every word must be terribly condescending and speak of how special the artist is or how painful their last breakup was (as if anyone cares). If that wasn't enough, these lyrics must be sung at the same speed of the singer's wit, unimaginably slow. They might as well write lyrics about how 2+2=5, they would be just as wrong. However, it's no surprise that this genre of music remains unattached to any record label. It's so damn crappy that no label would ever support it. Hell, it's so damn stupid, no genre will even claim it.
I happen to prefer music that requires more than one brain cell and testicle to write, such as hip-hop. Of course, readers will find me hypocritical for disparaging the arrogent lyrics found in independent music and praising the genre that features men bragging about all their money, cash, 'n hos. However, at least hip-hop artists have the balls to brag about those things in my face (sorry, up in my grill). When they rap, they always rap at 100%. They don't care if they're rapping to their entourage, a impressionable white kid, or a Republican Congressional Committee, they have the voice, intelligence, and audacity to make their music great, unlike the self-serving shitheads who make independent music. They would much rather sing in front of their pseudo-intellectual friends or on a sidewalk where passing people don't have the guts to say that their music sucks. Something must be done to stop my ears from bleeding. Since most independent musicians sing with eyes closed like pussies, I suggest replacing their guitars with bears holding WMDs. Wham! No more independent music. Hallelujah.

Stop Population Control Immediately!

The thought of having population control in nations throughout Asia makes me want to vomit in disgust. I'm from the America, damnit, and I believe that life is always a right and not a priviledge, just like wealth and happiness. However, the moral ramifications of population control don't bother me as much as the possibility of not allowing young ladies to blossum into beautiful mature women. Let's all just concede right now that Asia houses the most gorgeous women in the world. Their beauty shines brighter than that of any other race of women because they are smarter, have more personality, and are not confined by the evil powers of fashion. Fashion blows. Not only does it hide the natural hotness of women behind 800 tons of makeup, but it also tricks stupid teenagers into buying flat-brimmed hip-hop hats, big, black and baggy gothic jeans, and stupid polo shirts. Trust me kids, those clothes will come in handy when you have a job mixing concrete. Fashion is to blame for the existence of Abercrombie and Finch. Fashion is to blame for sweat shop labor in third world countries. Fashion is evil, don't do it.
But back to lecture at hand. If you seek the hottest women in the world, look no further than these three. On the far right, Michelle Yeoh, who has a firm kung fu grip on all things beautiful (she was the Bond girl in Tomorrow Never Dies and the older, less atractive woman in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon). At center, not only is Sandra Oh gorgeous, but she was born in Ottawa, so she's gots to love hockey (sick). And on the far left is Gish Jen, who takes a lot of liberties when it comes to attractiveness. I'll just let my audience gaze at their extrordinary beauty:

hot hotter hottest

Upon close examination of Gish Jen, many members of my audience will assume that I have poured an excessive amount of Windex into my eyes (The ones who don't are blind). However, Jen is on this list for one reason, she penned the novel Typical American (Note: I cannot underline, so excuse all book titles). Usually I won't talk about literature, because I'd rather do something less painful than reading like jump off a cliff. But this book was not as much reading as it was a sensual experience. I do not hesitate in saying that Jen's Typical American is the greatest piece of writing in the history of literature. What's my reasoning, you ask? This novel actually improves upon the Great American Novel. It is everything I wish The Great Gatsby could be. Where The Great Gatsby was boring and boobless, "Oh, look at Gatsby, isn't he great. Oh look, he died, isn't that terrible. Oh, look at Tom and Daisy, they're huge dicks. Let's relate all this to the Age of Exploration in North America", Jen's novel will knock you senseless, literally (get it, literally. Ah, never mind). While other authors don't have the balls to describe sexual intercourse and only imply it, (i.e. "They had some coffee and went to the bed. End of Chapter") Jen enhances the erotic experience with incredibly detailed description. I'm pretty sure that many members of my audience are reading this before they masturbate to porn in a few minutes. Please, do not bust that nut just yet. Reading Typical American is the intellectual alternative to pornography. At one point, I expected a door bell to ring, a delivery boy to be standing at the door, and a character asking "Did somebody order a pizza?". That would be followed by melodious porn music and a long session of three-way loving making. Read Gish Jen's Typical American immediately if not sooner.

Break the Bonds of Being an Enormous Pussy

He has completed one of the hardest tasks in sports over 700 times. In a historical perspective, his career statistics boarder on the absurd. He is blessed with perhaps the greatest combination of speed and strength in the history of baseball. When people read these descriptions, they envision a big, black baseball player wearing #25 and playing for the San Franscico Giants. However, that assumption is incorrect. The sentences above actually describe the world's biggest pussy.
The only other way to describe Barry Bonds, besides one of the greatest baseball players of all time, is as a giant, walking vagina. You could consider him a dick as well, considering he must occupy three lockers and a lazy boy chair in the clubhouse to accomidate his gigantic, concrete head (I believe he should have half the normal locker space to accomidate his tiny penis). Still, his audacity to actually whine about his supposed "struggles" confirms his status as a the world's largest steroid-filled pussy. He is not only blessed with unimaginable talent, but also the dedication to become one of the greatest atheletes of this era. Yet no one with an IQ lower than 10 can be given those gifts and still screw it up as badly as Bonds has.
Well, I guess some of the criticism that Bonds has faced has been unwarrented. After all, he said it himself, "Babe Ruth wasn't black, he didn't have to go through the same things I do". Absolutely, Ruth didn't have to endure the terrible pain of growing up in the pampered lifestyle of the Major Leagues with his father Bobby and his godfather Willie Mays. I'm sure he'd much rather have Ruth's childhood, spent in an impoverished orphanage and resorting to theft and robbery just to survive. But again, Bonds does not have the luxury of being white. That's why he will never play for the Red Sox because "[Boston] is too racist for me". Of course, Barry has never set foot in Boston, and I'm glad, because everyday when I commute into work, I pray that I don't hear something racist or hurtful towards African Americans. Oh wait, I'm sorry, that hasn't happened in 40 years. Although I will admit that I would have a hard time hitting a baseball while knowing that somewhere many miles away, someone hates Barry for the color of his skin. Or people hate him for being a brain-dead, hypocritical, steroid-filled dolt. Either one.
But in all seriousness, this man could be the king of Saudi Arabia with all of his ability and he would manage to complain. Most of his grievences are directed towards the media and their supposed attempts to hurt him. After all, what did Barry ever do the media, beside remain silent to reporters, not allow them to do their jobs, and destroy their livelihood. I don't see journalists on the field preventing Bonds from doing his job (Although I wish they would, to make the game a little more fair). Maybe if you just answered their questions like a professional, Barry, they would attempt to hurt you. But no, you still need to gripe while speaking at a 10-year-old's level about how the media makes the rehabilitation for your bum knee even harder. Oh boo hoo hoo.
I hope this season has shown Bonds that the entire universe does not revolve around his Jupiter-sized head. Baseball is still popular, and the front office has its big-name, steroid scapegoat in Rafael Palmeiro, so Barry doesn't have to sully his reputation an further. But Bonds will probably still take steroids next season despite the new regulations because he stated himself, "What is cheating". I'm starting to believe all the ignorance pleas from Bonds when it comes to steroids since he appears to have the mental capacity of a 5-year-old (Even kids in pre-school know what cheating is). So lets review for Barry because he's about 35 years behind the rest of us. Cheating is breaking the rules and perimeters of a game in order to give yourself an unfair advantage. I know that baseball did not have any limits on steroid use until now, but there is one unwritten rule that every baseball player follows no matter what age or ability level:

• Do not embarass or disrespect the game of baseball

Bonds knew that taking steroids was cheating probably before other professional sports leagues like the NFL ban these substances. Yet he decided to take a proverbial piss on the game's greats like Hank Aaron, Babe Ruth, and Willie Mays by going on the juice. I could indict Joes Canseco for doing the same thing, but my friends, colleagues, and I have rendered his existence completely pointless. I can only hope that Bonds will retire and never approach the game of baseball again, in the Hall of Fame or otherwise. Thank God he has never won a World Series because the Earth would probably explode after associating the words "Barry Bonds" with "champion".

If You Want One Reason to Love the Milwaukee Brewers, I Will Give You One Million

1. Why Not?: If you are currently searching for a team in Major League Baseball to support, you will not find any team that is as cool or as classy as the Milwaukee Brewers (maybe the Red Sox). With a great roster, spectacular stadium, timeless tradition, and a manner of pathetic lovability that will strike your heart with deadly accuracy, the Brewers have the total package. But enough complimenting these generalizations, it's time to get into specifics.
2. A Roster for Everyone: No matter who you are or who you claim to be, I guarantee you will find some form of application with at least one member of the Brewers' roster. Success should not be measured by the ability or talent of a team's roster, but by the number of diverse personalities that the team features. That is why the Brewers have the best roster in the Major Leagues. For example, if you identify yourself as a hard-working, blue collar man or woman, look no further then the Brewers two resident tough guys, Brady Clark and Geoff Jenkins. Everyday these two men will eat nails for breakfast, bring their hard hat and lunch pail to the ballpark, run themselves into the ground, produce results on the field, and do it all without receiving any fanfare. Hell, Jenkins will run through a wall to record an out. Anything that doesn't kill him will only make him stronger. A catcher with 50 pounds on him is blocking the plate? Geoff will still try to knock the eyeballs out of his head. That fastball is three feet off the plate? So what? He'll swing at it anyway. But the identity of the team does not only apply to the blue collared ones out there. If you slick, pimp, and always drop it like it's hot, then Bill Hall and Rickie Weeks are your men. If you're big and you don't shit from anyone, then look no further than "El Caballo" Carlos Lee. If your natural ability is hidden behind a goofy manner and a lack of coordination, then share your pain with Lyle Overbay. If you're from Australia, hey Trent Durrington is too.
3. The Pimpin'est Stadium in the League: Seriously, gaze at Miller Park, and don't try to act unimpressed by its shear awesomeness. A retractable roof, great seats anywhere in the park, delicious food, bathrooms with the toilets that have the little sprinklers in them so you don't have to wipe, sausage races, need I say more. Anyone who says that Miller Park is not the best ballpark in the Bigs is lying. Try to name better stadium, and remember that Wrigley and Fenway are falling apart so they don't count. Umm, uhh, yeah that's what I thought.
4. They are not the New York Yankees: Everynight in my prayers before I go to bed, I ask God why he allowed Satan to create and run a baseball team. Everything about the Yankees reeks of evil and homo-eroticism. I would presume that team with the most championships of any team professional sports would accomodate itself with a nice stadium in a nice neighborhood. But no, the shit hole that is Yankee Stadium is located in the trashiest section of the Bronx. Anyone who says that Yankee Stadium is the best ballpark in the league is either not yet ready to admit that Miller Park is the greatest structure ever erected, or does not have an IQ that reaches the double digits. Even though Yankee Stadium is the largest ballpark by capacity in the Major Leagues, George Steinbrenner still has the audacity to charge the same ticket prices as a stadiums with 20,000 less seats (check out the prices at Fenway if you're interested). The "Stadium" is made all the worse by the self-proclaimed "best fans in the world". Ironically enough, a team with such a winning pedigree has a fan base composed entirely of losers. How big of a loser must you be to associate yourself with such a winning team?

The Yankees are the anti-Brewers with their unbelievably shitty roster and shitty stadium. The widely held belief that Derek Jeter is a homosexual is no coincidence. The signs are simply too glaring and obvious. Of course millions of dumbass Yankees fans will rush to Jeter's defense and say, "but greg, jeters not gay, he dates supermodells!!11". Exactly, Jeter is so insecure with his masculinity and so desperate to display his affection for women that he will "date" supermodels. But Alex Rodriguez and Jorge Posada don't seem to mind. They can always borrow the models' lipstick, mascara, eyeliner, etc. (A-rod and Posada are the antithesis of Brady Clark and Geoff Jenkins).
I could continue slurping the Brewers or disparaging the Yankees, but I have neither the time nor the inclination to do so. But I do have one million reasons to absolutely love the Milwaukee Brewers, trust me.

See the Biggest Losers in the World! Live!

To whom ever created America Online's instant messaging, I must express my digust. Sure, many vapid people around the world will gladly give you thanks or oral sex for creating a new form of communication, but why must it be so impersonal? Talking on the phone is ten times easier and at least my friends can discern my sarcasm (which is much harder to express in words). Not only that, but I had to learn how to type at unbelievable speeds to keep up with my friends. I swear I have literally wasted one-tenth of my life "playing" those stupid word processing games (Damnit I hate Qwerty, that little shit). And the faces, why do we need those fucking faces? I noticed that every face shows some type of emotion, but why aren't any of the faces thoughtful or pensive? Probably because AIM users are never pensive or thoughtful.
But my biggest grievance with the AIM service is the profile. Although the profile does enable people to include some personalization into their AIM account, it also unleashes the unspeakable horror that is LiveJournal. If blogs are considered readers' hell, then LiveJournal is purgatory. Since the name makes absolutely no sense, so I have few suggestions to make a more apt title for such a service:

• LiveDiary: You might as well call it diary since every user needs tampons
• The Quarry: It may seem deep and meaningful once you look into it, but once you dive in, you slam your head against a slab of marble that is as shallow as the person's thoughts

The world would be a far better place without Live Journals. People are now forced into knowing the mood and musical preference of narcistic dickheads across the globe (and coming from me, that's really saying something). Basically two types of people use LiveJournal:

• Psudeo-intellectuals: typically wearing thickly framed glasses, listening to the fecal matter of sound that is emo music, and speak in the most condescending of tones because they vote Democrat (scratch that, most are too young to vote, but idealistic enough that they care for no reason).
• Suburbanite Crybabies: someone that will invent problems either because they don't get enough attention or they think the world revolves around them
  

How self-centered must one be to post journal detailing inane thoughts, crappy writing, or descriptions of an otherwise mundane life? As self-centered as person making fun of it, perhaps. But why must we be the victims? Why? I inquired one LiveJournal user as to why he felt it incumbent on himself to post his current mood for all to see instead of just buying a regular journal. After being instantly confused by the sensation of thoughts actually coming into his brain, he offered me the excuse that, "People care about my Journal and it's free". I decided to endure the pain of looking at his LiveJournal and discovered that every entry had an average of three comments, one from himself, and two from a couple of bitches that were probably too busy sucking his dick to actually read it. I guess two ladies slurping his bullshit constituted a high level of care (Hey, it's more action than I'll ever get). Plus, I think it's nice that he is willing to make his Journal public just to save a few bucks. Not only is he selfish for assuming that people care about his banal life, but he's cheap too.
Many of the emo-loving douches on LiveJournal would love to consider themselves excellent writers, but I, a simpleton who likes to make fun of people from abroad, must reveal in the nicest way possible that their writing is shit. Again, I don't mean to be hurtful, but it's true, the writing on LiveJournal truly is terrible. Now I acknowledge the fact that I am not the greatest writer in the world, but I admit that will always be considered a better writer than the pretentious dickheads who use LiveJournal. Why you ask? Simply because I have an audience in mind. Remember, those are the people reading your writing, they're called an audience. I don't write for myself since I'm not that selfish, I just write to entertain my friends, and hopefully, some strangers as well. So, that's it. And please, I implore all LiveJournal users to stop posting their bullshit, stop by my site, share a laugh or two, then get a vasectomy. Thank you.

The Next Big Thing

One morning, feeling especially cranky after a late night, I woke up and searched for the word "blog" on Google intending to disparage self-centered shitheads around the world who overestimate how much regular people care about their mundane lives by posting personal websites. These "bloggers" typically prattle on for pages and pages and pages on boring political topics and whatever else tickles their fancy, as if anyone gives a shit. Thank God these posts have comments, or else I would never be able to relay the truth to these dipshits that nobody cares. They usually offer an unrelated reply back claiming that "Oh, writing is just my hobby". Writing is not a hobby, anyone can write. Nobody calls breathing a hobby (Although I do wish breathing was a hobby, one that these people weren't interested in).
However, by curious querk of fate, I found a page that suggested I could create my own personal website. I suddenly began to think on a grander scale. Why just insult people personally by going from site to site when I could just make fun of people from one large source. In addition to that, I would no longer have to scour the entire world wide web in order to make myself feel better. Everything appeared to be turning up Greg.
Yet some idiotic (and impotent, I assume) people will believe that I am the world's greatest hypocrite for starting a blog after the assertion I made earlier. However, these people overlooked one incredible glaring difference. Most bloggers are self-serving turds that move blissfully and brainless through the world assuming that people care. The only difference with me is that I care. I care about entertaining the masses by belittling the people that have it coming to them. I am not toiling over a simple webpage for me, but rather, for others who seek guilty pleasures or a cheap laugh or two. If people expect me to generate laughs at other people's expense, then I will stand and deliver.
So my quest to attain popularity at the cost of others begins. As the great sports and humor writer Tony Kornheiser once said, "At the end of the day, sometimes I fear that I have not sufficiently entertained everyone". Well, here's to no more fear.